White Mask
by TheDustyScrub
Summary: Shortly after losing his team to a dangerous conflict, Sergeant Ben Mitchell of Canada's elite Joint Task Force Two joins Rainbow upon its reactivation to fight the newest global terror threat; a surprisingly well funded and trained group known as the White Mask. Despite their training and equipment, the enemy always seems to be one step ahead.


**_CLASSIFIED_**

 _Rainbow Counter Terror Operations Recruiting:_

 _DOSSIER:_

 _OPERATOR NAME: Benjamin Mitchell  
NICKNAME: "Radar"  
DATE OF BIRTH: December 12_ _th_ _, 1981  
PLACE OF BIRTH: Toronto, Canada  
OPERATOR CTU: Canadian Armed Forces-CANSOFCOM (Joint Task Force 2)_

 _Sergeant Ben Mitchell currently holds the position of JTF2 assaulter in the esteemed Canadian Special Operations Forces Command (CANSOFCOM). Prior to his promotion to Sergeant and enrollment with special forces, Mitchell served as a soldier for several years in the primary infantry of the Canadian Army in the Royal Canadian Regiment (RCR)._

 _Before enlisting in the military, Mitchell was employed by the Toronto Police Service (TPS) as a member of the Emergency Task Force (ETF) for his skills with firearms and squad tactics, and engaged in many high risk operations including hostage rescue and target elimination for public safety._

 _Due to growing instability in the middle east and terrorism sprouting all around, Mitchell enlisted in the Canadian Armed Forces as an Infantry soldier and did two tours in Afghanistan as a part of the global war on terrorism. During his first tour, he earned the nickname "Radar" due to his impeccable hearing and heightened awareness on the field._

 _Mitchell's commanding officer took notice of his leadership despite being only second in command of his infantry section and how well he worked with his companions and recommended him for transfer to CANSOFCOM. The CO believed with his past history in counter criminal activity and recent military activity, his skills could mesh together to form the perfect counter terrorist. It would seem the officers vision was correct._

 _Recently, Mitchell and a team of JTF2 operators were involved in a domestic counter terrorist operation in his home city of Toronto. Despite the teams and other law enforcement's best efforts, they were unable to stop the heavily armed terrorists (Believed to be White Mask agents) from detonating a heavy payload bomb in the City hall, inflicting heavy civilian casualties. Mitchell and a now paralyzed team member were the only ones to survive. However, all terrorists in the vicinity were eliminated by JTF2. Mitchell has requested transfer to our organization since our reactivation._

 _Highly lethal, exemplary in small unit tactics, excellent battlefield awareness, and incredible cohesion._

 ** _Recommend recruiting Sergeant Mitchell as soon as possible for team Rainbow._**

 _-Deputy Director Bishop_

* * *

"Sergeant?"

No response.

"Sergeant Mitchell."

Ben snapped back into reality. He stared at the woman in professional attire sitting across from him, a file in her hands. The two sat in a small, cubical room with two chairs, a single table and a one-way mirror on the wall. The walls were a light grey, as was the furniture. It looked like an interrogation room used commonly by Police departments.

"I'm sorry." Ben said, then cleared his throat and adjusted himself in his seat. He tapped his black combat boot on the floor.

The woman took notice of his anxious behavior. She gazed at his boots. He polished them prior to arriving. The blousing just above his boots was perfectly levelled and neat. His Canadian Forces CADPAT uniform was spick and span, not a single thread visible, his name tape and Canadian flag washed and ironed. As for the man in the uniform, he looked just as good. Fit, clean shaven, nothing breaking regulation in his deportment. To any civilian, drill instructor or any other military personnel, he looked perfect. The icon of what the Canadian forces had to offer; clean and professional soldiers.

Except he wasn't. He wasn't perfect. At least not inside. He was unresponsive, his eyes raced around observing everything, he twitched every time he heard a noise. This was far more than trained paranoia.

"Continuing on." The woman started. "You have quite the file, Sergeant Mitchell. A very impressive file."

"Thank you, ma'am." Mitchell responded quickly.

"You're an adept with small unit tactics and weaponry." She placed the file down on the steel table. "We'll take you."

Mitchell raised a brow. So easily? All the woman did was read the file and stare at him for a while.

"You seem surprised, Mitchell." The woman tilted her head slightly.

"…I am a little surprised, yes."

She stood up and paced around the room. "Two reasons, Sergeant. One: We need operators. We currently have twenty. Its been years since our deactivation, and we need people, fast. Two: We need _good_ operators. And Sergeant Benjamin Mitchell, you're one of the best. Not just in CANSOFCOM, but in the world." She stopped and stared the soldier down again. "You'll be serving with members of other nations. Elite operators from special forces around the globe. FBI SWAT, GSG9, GIGN, SAS, SPETSNAZ, you name it. JTF2 will make a fine addition. More importantly, I think _you_ will be a fine addition."

Ben stared back, soaking in the information. _'One of the best?'_ He thought to himself.

"Wait here." The woman left the room.

Now that he was alone, he had a couple of moments to think. Ben buried his head in his hands and let out a loud sigh. He didn't want to be there. He wanted to be with his colleagues, his friends. JTF2 operators that were near invincible. Or so he thought.

A few seconds later, the woman stepped back into the small room and stood across from Mitchell, her arms behind her back.

"Come in." She said in a raised voice.

Five individuals entered the room as she commanded. All of them in full kit. One of the five, a very large man with the union jack on his arm carried a crate. He placed the crate down next to Mitchell. The two men stared at each other for a brief moment before the Brit took his placed behind the woman.

All five stood behind the woman, still as stones.

"FBI SWAT: 'Thermite' Jordan Trace."

The man at the far right of the group dressed in black stepped forward. He snapped to attention. Ben could tell the man had military service by the **aggression** and speed of his movements.

"Ma'am." He said.

"United States Marine Corps veteran, FBI agent, holder of a bachelor's degree of science in chemistry from Texas A&M. Equipped with a high explosive breach charge, he can bust into nearly any room." Once she finished explaining, with a simple wave of her hand, Thermite returned to his spot.

"GIGN: 'Montagne' Gilles Touré."

A heavily armored man stepped forward, moving to attention like Thermite. The body armor was massive. His helmet had a face shield as well. Ben guessed this guy could take a couple of rounds to put down.

"Madame." The GIGN operator sounded off.

"This man, will take more than a few bullets for anyone on his team. Equipped with heavy armor and a massive custom riot shield, Gilles is dedicated to protecting his allies by taking point on operation." Montange went back to his position.

"SPETSNAZ: 'Fuze' Shuhrat Kessikbayev."

The Russian stepped forward, without saying a word. Ben could feel the gaze through Fuze's helmet. Traditionally, Canada and Russia were not close friends…And the Spetsnaz operator glared at the JTF2 soldier with similar distaste. Ben was extremely uncomfortable. The Russian was exactly as intel described GRU. Heavily armored, excellently equipped. The camo, the armor, the helmet. All of it.

"Don't let his demeanor fool you, Mitchell. He will cover you under fire. He has his own invention, the cluster charge. You want this man on your breaching team as much as Thermite, I can assure you."

Fuze backed off, still staring at Ben.

"GSG9: 'IQ' Monica Weiss."

A rather small woman stepped forward. "Ma'am!" She said in a thick German accent. Ben was a little taken back by the operator's choice of gear. Jeans, sneakers and a hoodie to go with her standard issue body armor and helmet. Her blonde hair spilled out of her balaclava into view. Ben had never seen such a casual loadout, however if it got the job done, he wouldn't judge…and he certainly wasn't complaining, as the equipment fit her form well.

"Weiss carries a RED MK III Spectre scanner. It can pick up electronic devices such as IEDs through barriers and walls. She's quite the techie and will most likely make upgrades to her team's equipment as well as her own. Unpredictable, but not negative."

Weiss smiled at Ben through her balaclava. Being the first one to show some sort of emotion. Afterwards, she took her place once more.

"Last and most definitely not least, SAS: 'Sledge' Seamus Cowden."

The man from before stepped forward. "Boss."

"The name makes it simple, Benjamin. He carries a sledge hammer. He breaks things that get in his way."

Just as she said that, the SAS operator cracked his knuckles.

"He's a natural leader and will almost always take point."

The woman looked around at all the operators and then to Mitchell. "We'll get you introduced with the rest of the unit later, however for now, this will be your squad should you choose to stay."

Ben examined the operators again, replaying the woman's description for each individual in his head.

"But. I have one more question for you before we accept you."

Sledge picked up the crate once again as if on cue.

"Why do you want to do this, Mitchell?"

Ben froze in his seat. All of the operators stared at him. His hands balled into fists and he grit his teeth. He thought of his friends that were just murdered by a well outfitted, well organized terrorist organization. "Because I just had to tell..." He paused, visibly trembling. "…A bunch of kids and their mothers…that their dads are never coming home…"

IQ and Montagne looked at one another and then back to Mitchell.

"Because I'm here, and they're not…And I won't ever let that happen again…"

Sledge stared at him and then at the woman. He nodded. As did she. Sledge dropped the crate in front of Mitchell and removed the lid. Mitchell had to stand in order to observe the contents of the crate.

He pulled out the first item. A black ops core helmet. On the rear of the helmet, a black patch with white lettering had "RADAR" stitched. The next item was a Crye Precision black combat shirt, followed by Crye Precision black combat pants with built in knee guards. Ben's eyes widened at the sight of the Crye Precision set. Wonderful equipment. A black JPC vest with a multitude of pouches including a hydration pack on the back of it, black desert locust goggles with tinted lenses, a black battle belt with magazine pouches, a drop leg pistol holster and a black balaclava made up the rest of his new equipment.

"What do you think of the new gear, 'Radar'?" The woman spoke.

Ben looked up while holding the helmet in his hands. "It's excellent." He muttered.

"Then welcome to Rainbow, Mitchell. I am Six, Rainbow's director." The woman finally introduced herself as the counter terrorist organizations leader.

Mitchell snapped to attention, not realizing prior.

"JTF2: 'Radar' Benjamin Mitchell." Six turned to the others. "Mitchell, as you already know, is your newest member. He earned his nickname through incredible battlefield awareness. Nothing will get past him. You can count on him to have your backs."

Six walked over to the door to leave. "Get acquainted, Mitchell." She stepped out.

The five other operators broke formation and crowded around Mitchell.

Sledge hit Ben on the shoulder, thrusting him forward a bit. "Welcome to the team, mate."

"Yes, welcome." IQ Added.

"Bienvenue, Mitchell." Montagne spoke in French.

"Merci." Ben was accustomed to using French in Quebec. His dialect pleasantly surprised Montagne, who nodded in approval.

"You're a pale replacement, Sergeant Mitchell." Fuze leaned against the wall, his arms crossed.

"Fuze…Don't do this…" IQ turned to Fuze, shaking her head.

"Replacement?" Ben raised a brow.

"Dana Carter." Fuze pushed off the wall, approaching Ben and completely ignoring IQ. "Naval Special Warfare Group. She was with Rainbow before its deactivation. An excellent soldier. Now...We have _you_. Some NATO, moose riding, maple syrup drinking, 'operator'..."

"THAT'S ENOUGH, SHUHRAT!" IQ yelled.

"I _won't_ let you down." Ben stood up once again, face to face with the Spetsnaz operator, surprisingly calm for the stereotypical insults thrown at him.

Fuze stared back at him, an eerie silence looming. "We'll see." He finally said before storming off.

"He's still beaten up about Dana, friend." Montagne looked to the floor. "Give him time, you'll get along."

Mitchell stared down the hall leading to the room, watching Fuze make haste away. "…What happened?"

"Some fuckers got her…White Mask. Same blokes responsible for your…Incident…We…never found the body."

Ben looked to the floor, replaying the battle in the streets of Toronto. The hostiles JTF2 engaged donned white face shields, protecting their identity. They fought like trained warriors, not like the insurgents he faced in Afghanistan. If they killed JTF2 operators and a Navy Seal…they must've been even tougher than Ben assumed. _Much_ tougher.

"They gave us a scratch. They pushed us back a foot. But we'll push them back ten meters. Just you wait, Mitchell." Sledge put the lid of the crate back on and lifted it into his arms. "I'll drop this off at the barracks. Meet up with me later, we'll run the range, see if you're as good a shot as your files says."

"Yeah, you got it." Ben nodded as Sledge left.

"I'm afraid I must depart as well," Montagne started. "However it was a pleasure, monsieur Mitchell. We should speak more thoroughly later."

Ben nodded and extended his hand. Montagne gripped his with a firm grasp and shook.

"Likewise, Montagne. I look forward to working with you."

The GIGN operator patted his shoulder and followed the path that Sledge and Fuze took. Now only IQ, Thermite and Ben himself remained.

"Hey, I'm sorry about your buds. I've had to tell some families the same thing. As both a Marine and an FBI agent." Thermite leaned against the table, knowing exactly how Ben felt.

"Does it ever go away? The pain?" Ben asked.

IQ and Thermite felt even worse for him. Thermite shook his head. "No. At least not for me."

Mitchell sighed and looked at the floor, more specifically at the shine of his boots.

"Your comrades died making the world a safer place, Mitchell. Find solace in that, Ja?" IQ attempted to comfort him.

Ben looked up at her. The German woman stared right back him.

"She's right." Thermite agreed.

"You're right. I still wish it were me, not them. But you're right."

"Like Sledge said, we'll get payback." Thermite assured.

"Payback that is a long time coming." IQ added.

Mitchell nodded.

"Come, let's grab something to eat and speak further. Thermite, you in?" She opted to change the subject away from the White Mask. There would be plenty of them in the days to come.

Trace gave a thumbs up. "Well I'd never turn down a meal. Take point IQ."

IQ removed her helmet and balaclava then spun on her heel, gesturing the two to follow. Thermite mimicked the action by removing his eye protection and helmet. Although Mitchell had only just met them, they already looked like different people without headgear. The almost golden looking hair that spilled out of IQ's balaclava covered her head. He already established she was physically attractive and all this did was support his claim.

Thermite looked very different too. Short brown hair similar to his own was found on the mans head where the Kevlar helmet usually sat.

When IQ starting leading the men out, Thermite hit Ben on the shoulder and pointed downwards with a sly smirk. Ben's jaw dropped. His point was proven again. He smirked like Thermite and thought to himself, ' _I like this group already…'_


End file.
